Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I) (42 page)

“The little ones are settled in bed, then?” Mildred looked at him over the top of her reading glasses.

“Almost.” Manny picked up the blue glass bowl of pea pods and took his seat on the couch in front of the muted TV. The power had come on a little over an hour ago. The Emergency Alert System had burped incessantly letting them know about an upcoming address, before he’d silenced it. “Connie’s reading them stories.”

Connie was blind and there were words on those pages. Yet she’d read them as if she could see. He couldn’t figure it out. He picked up one firm green pod, grabbed the stringy end and unzipped it. Peas plopped into the bowl.

“She’s had all those books memorized for years.” Mildred scooted the bucket she was using for the discarded pods closer. “Used to teach elementary school before she lost her sight.”

Ah, that explained that. He added the flaccid pea pod to the trash pile and then picked up a full one. “Are we going to can these tomorrow?”

“Oh, no. We’ll eat some fresh ones in soup then dry the rest for seeds.” Mildred’s attention darted from the shelled peas to the screen. “Well, it’s about time he showed up. We’ve been waiting over an hour. Henry! The President has finally dragged his butt on stage.”

“‘Bout time.” Henry rolled up the ramp and across the dining room floor. “This is the last of the peas. I’ve pulled the vines out and added them to the composter.”

On screen, the President approached the plain brown podium. His complexion echoed the concrete wall behind him—gray and dismal. Dark circles clung to the bags under his glassy eyes. He coughed into a white handkerchief, before tucking it into the pocket of his blue suit. The normally fluid movement seemed jerky.

“He looks like he’s been sick.” Really sick. Like Redaction sick. But that couldn’t be. He and the rest of the government had been protected. Manny moved his hands out of the way

Henry dumped half the peas into his bowl.

“Serves him right, the slimy so-and-so.” After adding the other half of the peas to Mildred’s bowl, he wheeled over to the door, set the bucket outside then closed and locked the French doors. “You do know that he and his rich cronies hid out in bunkers, while the rest of us had to fend for ourselves. They’re not a government of the people. They think they’re above us poor working class folk.”

Mildred chucked an empty pod at his head. It hit his ear before falling onto his shoulder. “Enough rabble rousing, turn up the volume so we can hear what he’s saying.”

Henry scraped the pod off his shoulder and pitched it into the bowl. “This announcement had better be about the sickness.”

Manny’s gut clenched. Had the Redaction returned? Was the dying about to start all over again? Could he keep the
niños
healthy? Three Burgers in a Basket had been closed. Three. They hadn’t closed that many at the height of the Redaction, but they were closed now. And that’s just the ones he knew about. How many more were infected?

At the grocery store, there’d been people coughing and sneezing. Some even shivered with fever. The advertised well-stocked shelves had been nearly empty when they’d visited to buy ground beef for the promised burgers. Saliva pooled on his tongue at the memory of the beef. His stomach promised to return it to his mouth. Soon he’d have it again.

Please God, not again
.

The President’s dark eyes darted from the camera to the right.

“He’s reading off a teleprompter.” Henry folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Might as well just hold up a big sign saying, warning well-edited bullshit is about to be flung at you.’“

A pea pod sailed in front of Manny.

“Language, Henry.”

“Woman, you’re gonna poke an eye out with those things!” Henry picked it off his lap and tossed it into the bowl.

Manny bit his lip to keep from laughing. The couple always acted ridiculous when the topic turned serious. It certainly helped. Most of the time.

A knock sounded on the door—two short raps followed by three.

“Sounds like Irina is back from the Wilsons.” Henry wheeled around the coffee table toward the door. Despite using the appropriate signal, the old man dipped his hand next to his leg as he reached for the door handle.

He must have a weapon. But what, Manny didn’t know, he hoped never to find out.

“She’s brought company.” Connie spoke from the hallway entrance. She pushed her white hair off her forehead before walking into the room.

“Company?” Henry raised his hand showing the black barrel of a handgun.

Without pausing, Connie strode to her wing-backed chair and sat down. “I think the Wilsons are about to join our little family.”

Family. Manny grinned as he continued to shell the peas. He liked the sound of that.

“‘Bout time.” The old man smiled and threw open the door. It banged against the wall.

Irina beamed at them. “Guess who I’ve brought.” The soft yellow porch light turned her bruised face an odd green color. “Since the other ladies have... left, Maggie and Liz decided it would be safer to stay with us.”

The two pale sisters peered around Irina, tentative smiles on their young faces.

Henry rolled back and spread his arms wide. “Welcome. We were just about to sit down and listen to the President lie to us.”

Mildred hurled a pea pod at her husband. “Don’t pay him any mind.” She set her half empty bowl in Connie’s lap, before pushing off the couch.

The white-haired lady dipped her fingers in the bucket, before shifting out one pod and unzipping it. Instead of using the bowl, she popped them into her mouth. She added the empty pod to the bucket, winked then held up a finger to her mouth while reaching for another.

Manny cleared his throat. She had to be able to see at least a little to know where he was.

“Constance, you stop eating them.” Mildred flapped her apron at the other woman before turning her attention to the girls. “Let’s make up an extra bed for you in the formal living room. Do you two mind sharing a bed?”

They both shook their heads.

Finished shelling his peas, Manny set his bowl on the coffee table. He hoped they started talking soon. He’d run out of yes and no questions before he’d finished his burger.

“No? Good. I’ve got a great blow-up mattress.” Mildred reached for the black garbage bag the oldest girl held. Liz shrank back, hugging it to her chest.

“It’s okay.” Irina rubbed Liz’s back. “They’re dirty clothes, Mildred will wash them tonight and you’ll have clean clothes for tomorrow.”

Liz’s blue eyes widened, but when Irina nodded, she reluctantly handed over the bag.

Mildred set it on the ground by the door. “I’m just going to set this right here until we get you settled. Irina, do you think you could get me the blue queen-sized sheets from the closet?”

“Sure.” Rini rocked back on her heels, before turning to the younger girls. “I’m just going to the hall closet. It’s in the same place as your house. I’ll meet you in the formal living room. Okay?”

Liz shifted closer to Maggie. The two sisters clasped hands.

What had happened to make the girls so distrustful? Something pinged against Manny’s leg. He glanced at the green strip as another one sailed through the air and bounced off his thigh. He shifted the bucket to catch the next one.

“Knew I’d hit the bucket eventually.” Connie winked at him.

As the Wilson sisters followed Mildred from the room, Henry shut the door, secured the security door and the two deadbolts. “Damn, the President has already started talking.”

Leaning forward, Manny hit the volume button on the remote.

“...is cause for concern, but know this...” The President raised his hands and opened them about shoulder’s width. “...we are with you. I know that many of you think we are hiding, safe in our bunkers. But we are just as sick as many of you.”

Manny glanced at Henry.

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “I’d search for bugs, but they can eavesdrop on our conversations from satellites these days.”

“My own wife and children are sick.” The President cleared his throat, twisted the cap off his bottle of water and took a sip. “I’m sick. But we’ll recover. We’ll get through this. Together.”

“Yeah, we’re together only because they got sick, too.” Henry dashed in front of the coffee table, before spinning his chair about and locking the brakes.

Manny sucked on his bottom lip. The President would get medical care. Irina had to get hers from the soldiers. God only knew how long that would last since everyone now seemed to be getting sick.

The President coughed into his handkerchief. “The Surgeon General has recommended everyone resume wearing their face masks to prevent contracting the Ash Pneumonia.”

Henry snorted and pounded on his skinny thighs. “Ash Pneumonia, my hairy tuckus. Something else is going on.” He pointed at the screen. “I bet him and his cronies haven’t set foot outside since October.”

If not before that, Manny agreed. The government had to have known about the Redaction before it hit full force. Heck, he’d even heard the thing might have escaped from some government lab.

The President took another sip of water. When he looked up, the camera zoomed in on his face. Red crowded the whites of his eyes, before the image pulled back.

“Holy shit!” Henry gripped his wheels. “He’s got the Redaction.”

“As for the Southwest, the governors are making plans to collect the trash. Once the garbage has been disposed of properly, the rat population should diminish as well as the chances of catching the Plague.”

“Plague!” Manny leapt to his feet. The bucket of pea pods rained down on to his bare feet. He’d read about that in the history books, about entire towns being wiped out. “That’s even worse than the Redaction!”

The President backed away from the podium and coughed. And coughed. And coughed, until he vomited. The image disappeared for a moment only to be replaced with a boxy rainbow and the emergency alert system honking.

Henry stabbed the power button and the TV blinked out.

Connie stopped shelling peas.

Manny scrubbed his hands over his face. The President was sick, dying if the vomiting and the red eyes were anything to go by. He glanced toward the bedroom where the
niños
slept. “What’s going to happen now?”

Connie ripped the string from the pod and shook the peas into her bowl. “Nothing much has changed for us. We’ll plant more vegetables for the coming spring. Mildred and I will begin teaching the little ones their lessons. You and Henry will continue to gather as many supplies as you can.”

Henry closed his eyes for a minute. His lips moved silently before he opened his eyes. “No, Connie. We’re not going to be able to stay here. We need more people, more adults in our tribe, if we’re going to make it, if we’re going to protect the little ones.”

“More?” Manny stooped down and began gathering the pods. Sure the extra food the soldiers had given them might seem like a lot, but he knew how quickly it would go.

“Yes.” Henry righted the refuse bucket and set it on the coffee table. “I know it may seem counter-intuitive, but we’re going to need round the clock guards to protect our garden as well as ourselves.”

“So we’re staying put.” Connie swept her hand back and forth in front of her knees, before she encountered the coffee table. She slid the bowl of shelled peas down her arm then made sure it rested firmly on the surface, before leaning back in her seat.

“We can’t stay put. Those gangsters tried to take on the Marines in their tanks. They won’t think twice about coming after a cripple, two old women and a bunch of kids.”

The empty pods bent in Manny’s fists and softened against his palms. Henry was right. “Can we wait until the soldiers return with next week’s rations?”

It was just a week. But much could change in a week. His parents went from healthy to dead in four days. The Aspero might let them live a bit longer, but that was worse than the Redaction.

“I don’t know.” Henry lifted his parking brake and rolled over to the table. He picked up a legal pad and a pencil. “We’re going to plan like we have to make it to the soldier’s camp on our own.”

Manny chucked the mush in his hands into the bucket before raking up the rest of the pods. “Can we take the van?”

“Not enough gas.” Connie pushed out of her chair and shuffled to the kitchen. Her shoulders hunched in her tracksuit. “We’ll have to walk and I’ll just slow you down.”

Manny felt like a fist slammed into his chest. Leave her behind? He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

“Now, Connie.” Henry shook the pencil at the older woman. “No one is getting left behind.”

That’s right. Manny nodded. They went together. They stuck together. They survived together. He just couldn’t lose another adult. He just couldn’t.

She rested her hands on the counter and hung her head. “I won’t risk the little ones’ lives.”

There had to be a way. There... Manny raked the rest of the pods into the bucket. “The ATVs.”

Jumping to his feet, he swung up the bucket. It could work. It
would
work.

“ATVs?” Henry scratched his chin. “How many were there?”

Manny thought back to their afternoon shopping in part of the neighborhood. Only two of the homes had been completely empty; ten others had held the remains of an affluent lifestyle. He pulled out the maps from his pocket. “Five, at least. And I think there were a couple of dirt bikes, too.”

“Five would work. The Wilsons were great outdoor enthusiasts. Both girls used to compete on dirt bikes.” Henry scratched something on the paper. “But they’ll need gas.”

“We can double up on the seating. There’d be enough for the
niños
and Connie.” Manny set the bucket by the back door, before plopping down next to Henry. It would work. After all, how hard could driving an ATV be?

The old woman smiled. “Well then...” Connie rubbed her hands together. “I like the sound of that. Can you two slap together some type of trailer we could use to haul all our goodies?”

“I think that can be arranged.” Henry wrote the idea on his pad. “I’ll check the internet to see if there are any designs and how much the ATVs can pull.”